At first, I was simply glad to finally see its real color — beneath the gray-brown layer appeared thick, gray fur. But the more I washed it, the stronger a strange feeling grew inside me.

The fur was too dense, too coarse — not like a dog’s. The ears were pointed and slightly too long. And the paws… large, with powerful claws.

I froze. The little creature lifted its gaze — amber eyes glowing faintly in the dim bathroom light. And it gave a quiet growl.

My heart dropped. This was no puppy.

I carefully wrapped it in a towel and called a veterinarian I knew, telling him I’d found “a wounded dog near the forest.” He agreed to see us right away.